


Pinky Promise

by opelqie



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Cheek Kisses, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kisses, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Prince Skeppy, Romance, Romantic interactions, Royalty, Slow Dancing, hand holding, no beta we die like the trio, tags will change in the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28299459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opelqie/pseuds/opelqie
Summary: And when Skeppy tried to form a question, young man let the fabric go. Disappearing in the shadows.What?-Or in witch Skeppy is a prince who follows a stranger into the forest.
Relationships: Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch
Comments: 36
Kudos: 173





	1. Nameless Stranger

The melody danced along with the dark trees outside. The falling sun painting the sky with many different colors and milky dots started to become more clear. From sad blue to cherry pink and glowing orange, covering the big stone castle with a soft glow. Not much to shine, but enough to create shadows. To mesmerize people that were staring.

Skeppy's dark shoes dragged along the ballroom, blue cape with tiny crystal laces as flowers attached, it sparkled under the huge chandelier in the middle of the room. Candles painting the place a soft golden, the soft droplets of rain that stopped raining not so long ago raced from the top to the bottom on foggy windows. Some were enemies, continuing their race alone while some were friendly and mixed with others, quickly becoming _one_ , reaching the bottom together; even faster than the ones that stayed alone, selfish.

The beautiful art of the room left every person looking at it with open mouths. His blue cape, with a perfect golden clip above his chest swayed as he looked around.

White, short-sleeved linen shirt tucked in his elegant black pants. He looked around the ballroom in pure awe, soft brown and golden colors calmed his thoughts. Music like a lullaby to his ears; it hummed, shushing his pretty words and sending him into a deep slumber at restless nights.

His family host events every two months, but _this_ special event was hosted every two years. It happens that today is the day. He quickly got bored of it though, eyes half open as he looked around the familiar faces that filled the place. Ladies in huge, elegant dresses, chatting with men, their friends, family, or to a complete stranger. The smoke of cigarettes burning in his dry throat and lungs, people traveling to visit by their own wishes from across the world. Some sign papers to participate in the event, being there because it was only nice to visit, to support their friends and family, or simply being there to steal flawlessly decorated food from big circle tables. But the rule for this event was that only people who were seen as 'pretty', _even though to his eyes everyone is beautiful in their own way,_ were able to join. There were two places for two winners, women and men.

The event brings excitement, everyone dressed up fancy and rich to show off their beauty. 

It's a weird event, everyone agreed on that, but no one cared enough to change it.

Skeppy's raven hair danced as he began to climb the huge stone stairs that were on the side of a large clearing in the middle. His elbows met cold, smooth stone when he reached the top and leaned on it. 

He stayed there, watching the instruments being picked up. Violins and black piano notes played through the sweaty air. People cheering and leading their partners to dance.

Declining the offer for food or drinks when he was asked, or awful flirting by random young ladies, he was quick to make an excuse, such as _No thank you, I'm full_ or _I'm already taken, but thank you._ , it always seemed to work and he was left alone again. It's understandable though. No one would want to bother the prince.

His eyes caught the glowing dots that now covered the sky above him behind a large window. _Oh_ , how _beautiful_ the sight was. No fluffy clouds to cover their beauty. They glowed without any shame in the world, almost like they were mocking, trying to show that no one will ever be as beautiful as them.

He agreed, nothing will ever beat the art of the stars above.

"Psst!" someone called; their whisper almost unnoticed with the melody that started playing not so long ago.

Skeppy turned. Brown eyes meeting a young man hiding behind a dirty golden curtain that was covered in many tiny details, such as flowers or circles. The man held a grip on the fabric, the light of the candles reflecting from his glasses and making his features glow in soft orange. Chestnut strings of hair covering his sight as the man tilted his head before he blew at it.

And when Skeppy tried to form a question, he let the fabric go. Disappearing in the shadows.

_What?_

should he wait and let the boredom swallow him? Or to let his curiosity take over and lead him to somewhere unknown? Living in a castle for years, yet he never explored the whole place yet.

Without a second thought, he let his hands slip from the stone he was resting on, and let his legs lead him to possible danger.

The voices and the music blurred as he went deeper and deeper into the dark hallway, following the mysterious footsteps echoing not so far ahead of him; enough for his ears to pick up if he ever turned a corner or turned to a stop. Tiny hair on his exposed arms rose as the chilly wind blew by, letting him know that he's close to the outside world.

His fingers trailed along with the rough details that were painting the walls, feeling their beauty and flaws. The feel of his shoes taking steps on a fluffy red carpet. The way the wind touched his hair and his cape, softly blowing in it and making it fly. The gentle burn of dirty white candles on the walls soaked into his vision and made his tan skin glow. His nostrils caught on something sweet, the whole place held a scent of strawberry perfume and old dusted books that were long forgotten, waiting for someone to care enough to open them and discover the hidden secrets that were kept safe.

And then he slipped through the hole in a wall that he had no idea existed.

Many wine red roses hug the stone walls of the castle from outside, some were exploring the inside too. The roses looked free. Free to grow and free to love. Free to wrap themselves around something and hold onto it for their deal life, surviving the cold. The sight was precious. Free. Something that Skeppy longed to feel. Just living, having sharp thorns protecting them from danger, little blades ready to face any battles upon their way.

"Hello?" he let his lips form a word. Aware that it wouldn't reach anyone's ear if they weren't waiting for his call, listening close. He let himself walk further. He has never been here, so unfamiliar with all the nature that no one probably visited and cared to cut the grass, to make it only an inch tall. His smile grow when he thought that maybe, _maybe_ he's the first person who walked through the fresh grass.

"Come here!" he heard the man call, more cheerful than before.

He showed all his worries and scared thoughts aside, and finally entered the forest. If something happens, at least he won't be living a boring life.

What can a stranger do to someone who had a dagger hidden under the big soft cape behind him, resting in a little pocket attached to his black belt?

He longs for something different. He needs a sparkle to brush against his cheek and hair, to cover him in invisible light that no one has ever seen before. To feel his hands roam free. To feel the rough bark of trees under his fingertips. To touch the wet leaves that came in his way, brushing his fingers along with them and sometimes even rip it off from a branch just to run soft circles and feeling the veins that the leaf had.

And so he followed the quiet humming and faint sounds of dead leaves against the stranger's foot ahead of him.

The fog was to his knees now. The deeper he walked into the woods, the more alive he felt. The once heavy breaths he had to inhale, now clear as the water from the sink at three in the morning.

The wind catches his hair and it sways along with it. Dirty edge of his blue cape dragging and picking a few leaves from the ground, clearing a path behind him, even though it didn't mean much became a royal cloth isn't like a wooden broom to dance on the ground with dust flying in the air; golden rays of the sun that cut from the blinds causing the dust to stand out and sparkle. The soft golden light falling and landing on the ground under the windows.

And _oh,_ how the lace details glittered, sparkling under the moonlight that slipped through the leaves above him. Fluffy white tears of clouds fell and landed on his cheeks, his nose, his tongue when he looked up with a bright smile and stuck it out from his rosy lips, feeling the snowflakes fall onto his tongue and his skin and melting right away and rolling down from his forehead to the back of his head, leaving him giggling and squinting when it tickled.

Every blade of grass sent tickles to his bare feet once he took his shoes off and placed them aside, not wanting to get them dirty. He doesn't mind. He doesn't mind anything at all. How the melted dirt from the rain and melted snow made his feet feel cold and how the dirt probably got under his fingernails. Walking further away from his called _home_ , deeper into the unfamiliar woods that he was never allowed to enter. He feels safe now. Doing whatever his mind tells him to, being free from all his duties.

Not caring if he suddenly disappears from the castle, not caring if he got hurt by a wild animal, that would be the first time he saw an animal that wasn't a royal dog or street cats. His only way to feel alive was to read countless of books.

To brush his fingers along the covers and to feel how old and rough the paper is under his touch. Roaming in an old library that barely anyone cared to visit, the library probably long forgotten. Sitting on a smooth, detailed, wooden chair and a desk creaking when many books were placed on top of it, causing the dust to rise and him to cough when he inhaled. Appreciating little notes and small doodles on the sides of ripped pages and colored sentences that held a strong meaning. To trace his fingers along with the printed ink words where they faded from a coffee that was spilled over, painting it a light brown. To float, to drown in many heavy words, licking his fingers to flip through the pages.

All his worries would be forgotten, allowing his mind to visit many different lands and even more unfamiliar places. Reading strangers turn into lovers only to die in each other's arms as the warm blood stain their clothes. To kiss their last tears and to feel the salt on their lips, all while whispering little nothings into their ear as the once cheerful sparkle fades away from their glazed eyes. A smile never leaving their lover's red-stained lips as they listened to their favorite voice above them, staring into their favorite eyes that stared right back at them. To bring their bruised hand to cup the other's cheek. Fingers feeling the wet warm tears that were pouring out from beautiful colored eyes. 

Maybe one day, a child would run away from home to investigate. And maybe one day, would stop and look at the big thorns being removed when they approached the magical place, allowing the innocent mind and their brown skin to enter the secret place. Only to be met with a stranger coming from the other side of the woods with wide eyes full of fear mixed with excitement. To be shy around each other at first, but to play hide and seek soon after. Reading books on their special spot, learning each other how to read even though the book was upside down in the middle of a clearing in the woods. They even claimed and called this spot _Their spot_. And they would slowly fall in love again. Their young mind not even aware of it. Mother Nature praying to herself that they would stay safe and take care of each other. Maybe even decide that they wanted to build a small house here. Their home to be seen as only shadows covered with thorns and roses from the outside, but from the inside, it's just a huge garden with many types of blue and red flowers and mushrooms under big trees. All that magical place only meant for them.

Not realizing how long he has been following the mysterious stranger, Skeppy stopped in his track when he spotted a beautiful opening ahead of him.

Stars casting spells and causing wet blades of grass to sparkle, dots of water sliding down and falling to the ground like kids on a slide, spots of snow glittering like many tiny crystals scattered around the place.

"Hello?" Skeppy asked again when he stopped in the middle of the clearing. Moonlight falling beautifully on his skin, painting his raven hair with hints of magical silver and soft light blue.

He turned around a few times, staring in awe at all the trees and mushrooms around him, flowers dancing with his cape in the wind as a large wave passed again. Goosebumps never came though, he got used to the change pretty quickly. It feels nice and comforting.

"Hi!" he heard the stranger say behind him. He quickly turned around. Wide eyes met green.

They were so close. How hasn't he heard him sneaking? Or was he even sneaking at all? Is the sight around him too beautiful for his eyes that he became deaf to all the noise?

The moment he saw the mysterious young person, he yelped. His legs backed away and decided that they didn't want to work anymore, giving up and falling asleep.

Before he could stumble to the ground, a fancy gloved hand caught his naked one, the other slid behind his back and swayed him to the side. Carefully holding his grip to not let him fall to the ground. Skeppy's free arm rushed behind the stranger's neck to steady himself.

They stared at each other for a moment, speechless.

"Hey-" Skeppy gasped. mesmerized and surprised by sudden movements. The man smiled lovingly and tugged a stronger grip behind his back, bringing them to their feet again. Skeppy hadn't even noticed his dagger being removed in the process.

The moonlight exposed his flushed cheeks, causing the stranger's smile to grow even more. 

Skeppy was panting. from panic or from how beautiful the stranger looked when he smiled, he didn't know. Neither did he care enough to find out.

What caused his blush to deepen more is the realization of the position they were in.

Their breath mixed in one and their faces were deadly close. One airy, long-sleeved arm behind Skeppy's back holding him still, holding him close. The other holding onto his wrist, now slowly sliding it upwards, tangling their fingers together.

Skeppy could only stare. Unmoving and too nervous to back away. His arm behind the stranger's neck only holding him closer. Heat rushed under his clothing and his breath stuttered in his throat.

"It's nice to see you again!" lips still confidently curved into a smile, he chuckled at Skeppy's sudden confusion and fear. Hair fell to his glasses as his head shook, biting on soft pink lips. "Oh- um… you know, from the ball." 

"Oh-" was the only thing the pretty mind of his could form. 

For once he is excited. For once he feels his heart pick a pace and his insides burning. Butterflies making him feel weak and high to the brim.

His heart explodes with different shiny colors like fireworks in the sky as the man carefully started to sway them, not breaking eye contact. His white-gloved hand moving Skeppy's, placing it behind his neck where the other arm was resting.

Skeppy wondered about all the times he had danced before. He never experienced something as magical as this; to dance in the moonlight as it covers them both. For the grass after the rain and melted snowflakes leave his exposed feet wet, to tickle him.

Leaves ruffle softly, being a replacement for the melody. Loud music from the castle only a whisper to their ears from how deep they've gone.

His cape glowed every time they spun around, it swayed from side to side. Small, dirty fluff at the edges soaking the water from the ground.

"You haven't even asked." Skeppy decided to speak up. His confidence grew as they were both taking slow steps now. Back and forth. Left to right. Then back at square one. Repeating the whole process and spinning in slow circles. His cape almost flying by their movements. The grass kisses his bare feet that are carefully dragging against it.

"May I have this dance?" he hummed knowingly and belt them down again. The sudden movement made Skeppy's hair fall backward, exposing his beautiful dark eyes staring right back at emerald green ones.

"Yes-" he breathed. "Yes, you may." 

And with that, he was pulled again. Both moving more confidently. More passionately, with more love and care. Their breaths in sync, too mesmerized to care about flushed cheeks. Too drunk, almost forgetting the question he was meaning to ask. Or how weird it was to follow a stranger, worst case; follow a stranger into the forest that he had never been in, he ignored the fact that this could've been an awful mistake made.

"Skeppy." he decided to introduce himself in hope to get his name.

The stranger slowed down his steps, moving them softly and more calmly now, deep in thoughts for a split second.

Looking at him with a smile, "Why, hello Skeppy!" he giggled; taking Skeppy by his hand to spin him around in a circle, only to pull him close again. Chest to chest, write fancy robe met tweed, dirty gray, tucked neatly in his black pants with a brown belt that held it in place.

And Skeppy swore he has never seen a prettier man alive. How when he smiled, the gap in his teeth showed, making him even cuter. If you look closely, you could see that he has strange sharp fangs. How his chestnut hair fell to his black glasses, slightly covering his vision, and he had to shake his head for locks to rise and fall to the side.

The glistening stars painted his features with soft blue and silver shades of colors. Bright smile putting the stars to shame, losing their light.

 _Yeah,_ he agreed. _No one will ever be as beautiful as the stars, but this man surely is more than just some white dots in the sky that light the void with glitter._

The man's beautiful eyes shone when they stared at each other. _Emerald eyes,_ Skeppy thought. _they look more like an ender eye, actually. That beautiful magical ball that was so rare to find, let alone create._

 _His eyes are prettier._ he smiled to himself. _Who needs an ender eye when you can stare at two?_

"And you are?" not sure if it was alright to ask, he let the question slip, anyway.

"Wouldn’t you like to know?" at least his worries were proved wrong by the smirk that was placed over a smile that he once had.

Taking the hint, he gulped and glanced away. The question stayed in the back of his mind as the man started to pick up his pace again. Dancing as nothing happened.

"You know…" he looked up and inhaled. "We shouldn't be here." 

"Is that so?" nameless stranger hummed. "You would rather stand there alone than be free? Here, _with me?_ "

"And how can I know that you won't just drug me? take me away?" He still avoided eye contact as they slowly swayed along with the sound of the leaves ruffling, with the grass, and with the wind. "-that you won't just put me to sleep and take me with you, to somewhere unknown?" 

"Oh, trust me…" he slowed down to a stop and leaned closer, enjoying how Skeppy's eyes glanced at his lips and cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red. "I'm _definitely_ doing that after the event."

With a pause and mind error, "...oh-" was all he could stutter out.

Realizing that they stopped dancing, he glanced upwards. Meeting his light eyes again.

"What if-" he gulped. "what if I leave the event earlier? What if I disappear before you could even find me?"

He watched closely as the stranger let out a laugh and squinted his eyes as he shook his head. It was a dumb question, really. The man was proud to know that he's the reason Skeppy forgot the fact that he's a prince.

"You won't." his eyes had a mischievous glint when he looked at him again, leaning even closer. "In case you do… I'll find you. _I'll find you,_ Skeppy... And you know what I'm gonna do after I do?"

flustrated, Skeppy hummed as an unspoken question. He shut his eyelids, black lashes showing their beauty. Snowflakes falling from his raven hair by a slow tilt of his head.

"I'll take you, Skeppy. Away from all this-"

He paused, inching his face closer and Skeppy cursed to himself when he felt his breath on his own. His throat dry, lungs full of an unfamiliar, new feeling. Butterflies in the stomach. It's a sight from books he'd read in ungodly hours with a humming candle placed on the table. It was a problem how quickly he let his guard down; falling for someone who he didn't even have the name of. So unrealistic yet so real.

"And you'll be _mine_. You'll belong to _me_. Is that alright?"

And Skeppy let the words hold him close.

"And I'll be yours-"

He let the new feeling take over his senses. Nothing ever felt as alive as this very moment. The way the grip around his waist tightened, thumb softly running circles, giving him a calming massage. Their breath mixed as one. Gently warming his skin as it wasn't hot enough. Chestnut hair tickled him when their foreheads were softly bumped together.

And Skeppy's heart dropped. From this moment on, he promised to set everything that blocked his way from this stranger, to flames.

For red and orange artwork to reflect in his eyes only for him to turn around, continuing to follow his heart and knock all the guards sent after him. He would set his own skin to flames if that's what it takes to be with _him_ again.

"-And I'll wait for you to find me again."

Skeppy agreed in a whisper. "And you'll save me from all of this. You'll take me away and show me how it feels like to live."

He finished, waiting for the stranger to connect their lips. To take his soft gloves off and tangle his naked fingers in his raven fluff of hair. Twisting it, softly pulling on the dark locks.

To smile into the kiss. To open his eyes just to close them again and kiss him harder. To feel proud of how he already stole Skeppy's heart, a dance in the wood is all it took. How Skeppy fell for the man he didn't even know the name of. To take Skeppy away from his normal, boring yet busy life, and show him how it feels like to run in a field as the soft wind sings them a lullaby. To lay down and tangle their legs, their fingers together, and just to lay in peace. To pick flowers and make flower crowns. Maybe even bracelets, so he could take Skeppy's hand, hold eye contact with him as he lifts it; planting a soft kiss on his red-stained knuckles, watching how his tanned skin turn red in cheeks. How he's able to set flames to burn in his dark, mocha eyes without even trying. Any kind of action that meant love, Skeppy would learn from him. He would feel like floating in the air, yet drowning in the water at the same time, breathless. How he would feel his skin heat up, the chilly wind cooling his temperature right after, causing the goosebumps to rise. And Skeppy would fall for him all over again. And the man would giggle and kiss his forehead, pull him into a hug and plant a harder, _longer_ kiss to his hair. He would show him love. _Love..._ A meaningful word that Skeppy didn't know the meaning of when he was living in the castle. So thankful for being stupid and following a stranger into the woods.

Skeppy waited for something to happen.

_Anything._

But when he opened his eyes, all he was met with were trees ahead of him, an empty feeling in his dagger pocket under his cape, and a loud bell as the sign that the event has officially started.


	2. Make You Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I promise you, love…"
> 
> The man says sadly, tangling their pinkies together as the sign that he will never break it, that he will stay true to his words.
> 
> -
> 
> Or in witch a prince sneaks out of his room to visit the forest again.

The walls keep the screams inside. A noise of a vase that has been thrown on the ground with full force shatters against the parquet, dried clay with painted details break, water splashed all around the room, staining the fluffy carpet with a darker shade of cinnamon. Wine petals on the ground next to Skeppy's now soaked socks, the roses crying their own tears and breaking apart, scared of the rough royal hands that grabbed their home and destroyed it without any shame, without any regret.

"Don't call me that!"

Just like roses, the prince's tears start to pour out. Slowly at first, he felt his throat tighten like he gulped a stone rather than his saliva.

"I'll call you however I want!" his father's voice rose, toxic energy floating in the stiff air around the two, causing the dim light of a candle to fall heavy. "Today was the third time you were seen outside of the castle without a guard by your side."

"I don-" His voice breaks. "I don't see a problem with that?"

They were going back and forward, prince's feet and eyes glued to the ground as the king's hands find the items to throw, to break, hissing and yelling at the top of his lungs.

It was true, He was reported earlier that day, his tiara and cyan cape is hard not to be seen glittering under the sun and floating from the cold breaths of the wind. A prince without a guard roaming freely around the kingdom isn't something his father wanted. Skeppy never understood why.

"The rules are the rules. Break them again and not only _one_ guard will watch over you, but two."

His father spits, swinging his hands on Skeppy's night drawer and throwing old letters and poems onto the floor, landing on water mixed with royal tears, being quickly soaked in the now ruined paper of memories, from faded yellow to darker.

Skeppy shuts his eyes tight. Poems that he once let himself drown into, sweet words from his old friends the only thing that was left from them before they moved away and before the new rules became normal. Sweet poems now ruined by his father's anger.

The sight is horrible, but Skeppy's soaking socks and roses ruined under his gaze, it would be beautiful if it were done for a different reason though. The ink words blur, spreading out with dark blue around the letters with hints of purple.

And he lets the tears free to pour. Nails bitting inside of his palm, creating burning moons that his mind was too bothered to focus on by the wound of his weak heart, rushed thoughts. He keeps his head low, ashamed to break in front of his own father who's eyes only did more damage.

The king turns around with a silent, harsh _goodnight_ , slamming the door behind him as he takes a step out. The conversation with his bodyguard being muffled behind the thick door.

And Skeppy only knows how to sink down his knees. His nails leave his palm and he tugs on his ruined fluff of hair, tiara being thrown aside. He bends down even more and his voice turns into a muffled scream behind his teeth.

Why are his feet and hands forbidden to roam around a kingdom he lives in? Every time he asks, his words are like an invisible force, a broken record that is played on repeat, the air around him turns heavy as he gets stared at with something that he can't quite understand. And his question is ignored, the change of the topic always follows after it.

He doesn't get it, he doubts he ever will.

Though he still hopes for the day when he _does_ find the secret out.

His hands leave his hair, falling to rub at his red eyes and pulling on his eyelids, same with his cheek and he digs his nails in his soft tanned skin; but the pain feels like nothing, his thoughts and mind bigger and more hurtful. A small unnoticed action as a cry for help, he leaves pink lines from when he scratches his cheeks, it only burns a split second before it goes numb and he moves to a sitting position.

 _Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!_ His voice leaving only as a silent scream with a shake of his head. Desperate for something more than this, more than everything that he has seen in the past… how many years? He doesn't even remember when was the date he was born. His memory blurry like a name that was once cheering him on from a simple swing of a wooden sword. A figure blurred out by the fog. 

And his hands hit the floor repeatably, water splashing around his room, a comfortable carpet has never been so ruined. Roses are crying with him though, their wine petals laying dead on the ground, wishing him small comfort. His eyelids come to an open only to meet his ruined memories of happiness; letters from his friends in the past, not wise with words but silly enough to be made fun of from how their handwriting fills the empty paper, little doodles, and black ends burned by the match. He picks one with shaky fingers, the one that has no signature, but the handwriting is flawless. Their words cut deeper and deeper into his heart the more he reads them, and every time it just seems like he skipped a part of it, having to read it all over again.

Sleepless nights spent looking at the bright stars that stare right back at him. How when he sadly smiled, the stars flickered. How when he cried in his arms, the stars turned their shine a little brighter just to let him know that they're watching, that they care. And Skeppy would wipe his sniffles away after a long needed cry, thanking the stars and the wind that blew at his wet cheeks. Wishing a wish every time he saw a falling star, wishing for something different.

And so he waits, he waits for the clock on his wall to hit number _one_ , the ticking is comforting to his ears, not as annoying as when he would be drowning in the book, the ticks filling the background in the worst moments possible. At least he has something to focus on now in this deadly silence. His floaty long-sleeved shirt wet, stick to his wrist.

Skeppy stands up, his bare feet leaving a wet trail of water that he was resting in and sobbing last tears out, leads him to the large window. He picks up his tiara, his cape and the white fluff tickles his ears as he throws it on, making his lips lift to a tiny smile just for a second before he takes his sword.

 _Is he really about to climb down from his room and visit the forest again?_ The wind enters the room as soon as the windows are swung open, mocha eyes shining with hope as he glances at the sky again for the millionth time, probably even more than that.

And he lifts himself up, sword firm in his fist as he sneaks out, placing his bare feet on the outside of the window. It's almost freezing, the wind and the snow have never been so comforting though. And he smiles with nerves picking at his skin, shaking legs taking careful steps, he keeps his posture bent down, stepping on the stone roof of his called home.

Taking his sweet time, never in a rush for something new, slowly sliding down and making his way to the bottom.

The feeling of freedom hit his senses as his feet meet the cold grass, finally.

He wonders why he is so desperate to find a new place to pour his feelings out, maybe a fire in front of his sleepy eyes with hot chocolate placed in his warm hands, washing over all his worries and makes him feel safe.

Safety, that's what he wants, to be safe from all the trouble and free to roam the world.

Taking quick steps to get away, away from his room, away from the castle, and away from his father. Just away, in the direction of something unknown.

The path he follows is invisible to the eyes that had never come across it. But he follows where his mind, the heart tells him to.

He doesn't know why he feels so attached to the forest ahead of him, already in sight but many steps away. _Never come near the woods._ His ears pick on the warnings spoken for him. His raven fluff dances softly and lands in front of his eyes as he nods, a brain full of unanswered questions he never dared to ask.

 _Just nod and you'll be okay, but don't let their words get to your head, don't let them enter and poison your thoughts with such silly words and whispers._ He reminds himself. _Not even your heart, always keep it locked away from their touch that always seems so gentle at first, but later it turns into a large cut of a blade._

The brightest souls must hide. So he hides his, away from all the people around that only want the best for him, _or they seem like they do._ Must fight against the heavy, yet empty void. For Skeppy, that's not the case. He never sees himself as confident as the knight in many wars, losing a loved one, or many, and living knowing that they could've done something to stop a tragic moment. His stunning soul doesn't fit in the darkness, void black mess of emotions that keeps his mind active at night and thoughts rushing by the speed of light. So he avoids it, resting his elbows under the shining stars where his skin glows a faded white on top of his darkened skin, moonlight a better blanket than the one laying on his king-sized bed with its roof in the corner of a dim brown room.

His eyes glow. Glow with thousands of unsaid stories written down in a book, hidden in the corner of a large library, sitting by other poems, keeping company, secretly sharing their writings, and the book rewrites by the silence, swallowing all the new words that fly around. Dust that sleeps on top of the leather covers only meaning warmth and hugging an item that holds many secrets, secrets that someone, one day, may read. Their mind would be blown away, stealing their breath from something that's written so professionally. Books are full of beauty and unspoken words, words printed or written with a feather with black ink at the edge, that are splashed all around the old pages. Reading word by word, mind traveling to different realms, and then your eyes catch something so beautiful, something that changes your point of view. That feeling when you read something and think _I'm saving that_ , something so breathtaking that you remember every single detail of, making you tear up because _Woah_ , how can someone be so skilled to write something so amazing that it sticks to your head and sneaks into your heart, that it pour your mind with magic and takes over your body, calming it down and eyes become excited, or sometimes sleepy from how relaxed it makes you.

Skeppy's throat is blocked so all the tears and sniffles don't slip out. Running without breath, he doesn't need to breathe when he knows that he will rest soon. With his mind telling him to hurry, with his heart beating faster and faster, with sweat forming under his raven fluff attaching it to the forehead, body moving without stopping, without regret nor care. Muscles tight and just escaping with a sword attached to his hip. His tears are crystal, beautiful mess of his redden cheeks and eyes glowing under the moonlight, thousands of stars.

The vines, roses, and thorns are keeping the forest a mysterious secret. His mind not noticing it and paying no attention as he enters it with blurry eyes, running and passing many trees. He doesn't notice the entrance closing behind him. His silent screams and sniffles are there, bouncing against the walls of his throat and some even escape his lips, feet digging into the grass that might leave tiny scratches from how fast he lifts them, taking a rushed step again and again.

 _Where am I going?_ he doesn't know, he doesn't even try to process what his mind is screaming right now.

_Away, away. Go away, get away. Run, run, run. Let the legs of yours lead you to somewhere away._

He does exactly that. He runs, wet sleeves cold from the wind and he feels it squeeze around his wrists like ice on top of the lake in a freezing winter season. His silk, white blouse floats like his cape behind him, golden clip keeping the royal cape from flying away. His tiara is beautiful under the glowing light too, how his hair sways against the winter wind and how the snowflakes catch him by their tiny cold hands, sticking and hiding under the locks of his hair. Snowflakes dance happily in the air like people in suits and dresses, smiling while moving their feet and holding hands with another person.

Lack of breath finally forces him to slow down. Cuts from blades of the grass and flowers finally pulling his mind away from his thoughts. How are flowers surviving the winter? Has he slept another day in private school and missed out on such pretty and interesting information? His glazed eyes glance at the ground, paying more attention to different types of flowers. Don't flowers hide from the cold? He has so many questions yet no answers. But he doesn’t mind.

_Go away, get away. Run, run run, let your mind free to wander and feet to continue leading._

He doesn’t care about how his nose starts to bleed from the cold and how his bones freeze under layers of skin and how it breaks into pieces, how his cheeks go numb and cold, nails almost like they never were nibbling there. He knows better than to lick his purple lips but does it anyway. The wind is only colder.

And his eyelashes are wet. Tiny, almost unnoticeable teardrops stuck at the edges, making them shine like crystals and blur his vision more, having to lift his sleeves to rub against them. He does that, wiping his red nose and diamonds from his eyes, not exactly helpful but it's enough.

_Just get away. Get away, get away._

He doesn't bring his fancy watch either, he doesn't like to wear the gifts his father and people give. He appreciates them though, cracking a gentle smile to let them know he's thankful for their kindness.

When will he be gifted with freedom and a friend? It has been so long since he last laughed with someone, only the guards and his father allowed to be close. Why? He wants something else, someone. Someone who will laugh at his stupid jokes and make fun of him when he burps at the dinner, snicker together about how his father looked at him with disgust but waving it off. How they would sneak out and play with wooden swords, dressing in skirts, trying to make fun of themselves when they dress up as girls, only to stare at each other in awe thinking: _We're actually pretty!_ But still laughing their shy stares away. Tangling their pinkies, promising stupid things that wouldn't even come true in the future, probably jokes about living a life like from romance books. Just someone to be there for him, with him. To share whispers and poems while they're hiding in a library, surrounded by nothing but shelves filled with heavy books. Why is he forbidden to have a friend? Or why is he never allowed to hang out with his sister? They're family, right? Why only a guard allowed to keep him company? Rarely his father.

So many questions yet no answers.

The glitter of hope in his dark eyes when they catch a falling star, quickly shutting them and wishing for something, someone.

He likes the way the cold wind scratches his skin and cloth, the way his nose feels heavy from how long he has been running, walking. How he crosses his arms to save some heat, hands under armpits giving him at least some kind of warmth. He likes the unusual though. Never getting a chance to see his warm breath turn into steam when he's locked in his room, like when he's making himself a tea and blows at the hot drink under a large window with covers around his bathed body.

He doesn't like the pain, he just finds comfort in feelings. He just likes to feel something in his heart, more than just pumps of blood.

The memories dancing like snow in the air, a feeling he gets for a split second and he stops in his track to squint his eyes, digging his toe fingers and feeling the snow underneath him. Stepping back to try and repeat his actions, maybe he will get that feeling again. But it never came, so he brushes it off, continuing to walk further into the forest.

He finally spots a clearing ahead of him and rushes to the middle. How the air is more clear in this certain spot, the wind strong but gentle, the spot is honestly breathtaking.

He glances up at the stars, they stare right at him with the moon above his head and the trees. His face never turns into a smile, only a frown and brown eyes just blankly staring upwards, a silent cry for help. His hand reaches out for his golden, blue sword, pulling it out and stabbing it into the ground.

Letting the glow to pour into him, filling him with light and magic, he feels so free here. He lets the cold hold him close, never too close to mixing with the warmth inside, but close enough to make him feel tingles up his spine. He let the stars shine down on his tan skin, brushing over him like a beautiful painting on many walls in the museum. His tiara belongs there too.

The feelings and the wind takes him where he needs to be. Safe, _away._ His whole body is full to the brim with something he never felt before, something so magical he can't describe. The snowflakes sit gently on his skin, like sprinkles on a cake, or sugar on donuts, and shower his skin with kisses.

His ears pick on the noises of a running river that he hasn't noticed before. He's drowning like a stone thrown in it, his veins pump water, feeling his blood being replaced with the ocean, full of mysterious feelings.

He outstretches his leg, moving his bare feet slowly and gently, patting the grass and the snow. Humming along with his feelings too, moving more freely than ever. A slow spin of a circle is done and he lifts his hands, then lowers them down and bows. The ocean in his veins is too much, it pours out of his eyes and slides down his pink cheeks.

Slow movement becoming one with the woods. Feeling the power it holds and he sways again, forcing back the tears in his throat. He lifts his arm, wet sleeve almost dry from how long he's been outside, placing it in a position as he did three days ago, behind an invisible neck. His other hand stays low, feet making circles and taking small steps, then bigger, then smaller again.

Such a tragic beauty. He bends down holding air as that stranger bent him some days ago, choking out a broken sob when he did; like he spilled the water from a pot, full to the brim, and if the pot moves, droplets fall, or maybe even a waterfall.

He's an angry beauty in the darkness that kept hiding all along.

His sniffles ring out again, more violently. The wind causes the waves to rise, the ocean unsteady and he feels like his veins froze for a moment, then boil again. 

The air is replaced with the sound of a running river and flowers blooming under his cloth. It hurts to breathe, different types of flowers singing their awakening lullaby. The forest is a garden full of magic and he's drowning in the feeling, pulled down by the grass and by the flowers.

He's a sad beauty. Looking for some sort of magic to take over his madness.

His breathing knocks out and he stops, straights his back again to look at the stars with blurry eyes, stars a gorgeous blur, watercolor spilled onto a painting on accident.

Lips curl up in a painful smile, slowly grabbing the sword and lifting it up.

Just like he did back at the castle with an opponent. Diamond chestplate that shine under the rays of the sun as he throws himself at them, only for his sword to be blocked and pushed away. Now that he's fighting, lost in thoughts, he can't help but think about how fighting is like dancing. To take quick steps back and forth, hand holding a dangerous item that would look so shiny covered in blood. To sway his body like a spinning record, no shield for extra protection, thinking if he gives up his possession and stops doing what he usually does, to run away and discover new strange things, maybe he will find the answers to his questions? Attention being drawn away when he spots a dark figure at the corner of his eyes, the feeling of someone watching him from the shadows. With his mind in the clouds, his feet feel a light force against it, a kick to the side, face meeting the ground as his opponent puts their sword under his chin with a grin, a word _focus_ slipping from their throat.

Diamond sword with golden details being lifted in the air in front of Skeppy's closed eyes. The moonlight kisses them both, making them shine with every movement.

Tears are still pouring out, freezing from the winter air making them shine.

Tears like shame leak all over the ground and it mixes with snow, tiny flowers, and grass. Writing his own hate poems out by sniffles and anger that fills his ocean, painting it with blood, his face gets colder.

He swings his sword like when he's practicing for a battle that he will never attend. He closes his eyes again and takes a step, with his other hand holding his balance and he dances with a heavy item in hand, royal rich cape floating from his movements. The flowers are swimming under his clothes and his skin, growing like a garden that no one cares to take care of. The thorns draw blood inside his body, anger quickly sinking in.

The river never stops running, his body is like a heavy stone, can be light too, he'd drown anyway. The stone sinks to the bottom and becomes friends with the sand who gladly accepts their company, even though the stone is heavier and bigger than just some sparkles of dust underwater.

A beauty in the darkness who's dancing under the moonlight with a sword that keeps swaying, slicing through the air. Just like an artist when they pick up their brush and draw a quick line across their artwork, full of flustration radiating from their skin caused by a mistake from their own fingers.

Skeppy needs a sparkle of magic in his life, this isn't enough. Where's _his_ beauty in the darkness? In the madness, in the sadness? He longs to find it, becoming more and more frustrated with being locked in his room at many nights alone with sad poems that his heart poured out and feelings landed on a paper.

With a loud broken scream, with tears splashing against the ground, he grips his sword strongly with both hands and swings it violently.

But before the sword can slice the ground, it was met with a crashing sound. Wide teary eyes shoot up to find green ones staring him down.

It's him again. With his white gloves holding a purple sword, a design that Skeppy has never seen before.

He pushed against Skeppy's sword and the prince stumbles back, almost falling but quickly catching his balance again.

Skeppy's brows furrow together, sniffling. "You _asshole-_ " he throws himself at the stranger, the swing being blocked above the man's head.

"You sa-id! You said you'd come for me!" Skeppy cries out, backing away then taking a step forward again, his freezing hands aren't as strong as they were back in the castle causing his swings to fall weak, easy to block.

His other hand flies to his stomach where he's been hit with a leg, a spike of pain washing over his senses and he's thrown onto the grown with a loud thud, cutting off a swear that was about to slip out from his burning throat.

His lungs hurt, a beautiful garden under the layers of skin just growing and growing, needing to be taken care of.

The magic he was so desperately looking for is right there, right in front of his blurry eyes. The wind shushed them along with the snowflakes when it blew at the man's head, the hood falling behind his back exposing a soft, chestnut mess of hair.

And the man is beautiful, such a mystery to Skeppy's eyes, wearing a yellowish-white shirt with a black cloak over it, keeping him hidden in the shadows when he watched Skeppy from behind a tree ever since he felt the forest warn him about a new presentence being close to the forest. The tiny whispers of the leaves and quickened humming of a candle were never been wrong, never lied. The man knew who the person was, and he had told the forest to let him in.

Skeppy takes the hand that has been stretched out for him, the soft material of man's white gloves bringing him a weird comfort to his icy fingers.

They stand there, looking at each other before the swords rush again in swings, the once cold feeling tickling his tanned skin is now freezing, the heat and sweat mix with the dark ocean, cooling his sweat.

Skeppy sniffs again, causing his mind to focus on the cold, and in a split second, a sword is quick under his chin, blocking Skeppy's weak attempt.

His breath knocks out when he feels his grip loosen and his diamond sword being thrown away.

Words betray him, with a fire burning against the walls of his throat, he spits a swear out, others following soon after in an attempt to piss the man off. 

And he did, from how his green eyes shone a darker shade, how he quickly took Skeppy's empty hand and pulled it so he takes a step closer, his hand being held at the side of strangers hip, and to not push himself any closer to the sharp blade of a sword to his neck, he lifts his free hand and pushes against a gloved one.

"Such heavy language coming from a prince, I see."

" _Fuck you-_ " Skeppy tries, but the sword push closer shutting his next swears up, even though he's trying his best to pull it away with a cold, almost numbed hand. He should really start to dress properly in case it gets even colder next time.

And any word that he tried to push free from the back of his throat, it comes to the tip of his tongue, but the force against his Adam's apple causes him to gulp, burying his words down and it burns in his throat.

The air around them not being allowed to be painted with heavy words anymore. Such strong language that even the trees heard, the wind blowing harshly at the leaves.

"Quiet, she doesn't like your way with words."

"She?"

"The forest, she likes to be called that."

"Dude, the fuck are you o- _ah!_ " the cold blade press deeper into his neck, not hard to draw blood, but hard enough to send Skeppy into a quick panic.

Skeppy cries out in fear as the eyelids of his fall.

And as he goes quiet, the wind softens again, the sound of his heart beating is obvious from when the leaves stopped to a shush too, allowing the silence to wash over them. His heart, which pumps water and the river and the ocean, goes back to pumping warm blood. It's louder than their heavy breath against each other's skin.

He loosened the grip, letting his hand rest on a gloved one rather than pulling the blade away.

Skeppy cracks an eye open, fear in his pupils are clear as the sky without fluffy clouds. He's drowning again, legs becoming weaker the longer he's out in the cold, It's been quite some time, hasn't it?

He lets out a defeated sigh that was buried in his lungs.

" _Make_ me shut up." He hisses with the rest of his anger that's left, the one that was once floating in the air.

The stranger laughs at that, letting go of Skeppy's hand and it falls low, why can't he move it? The numbness from the cold isn't _that_ strong to make his hand weak, so why?

The man's free hand pulled out a dagger, to which Skeppy's eyes widen in shock.

"So, _you're_ the reason why I couldn’t find it!" He raised his voice a bit.

"Yeah, It's very pretty!"

The somehow sweetest voice that Skeppy has ever heard turns into a teasing one, and his green eyes glance at the item that rests on top of a raven fluff.

"Your tiara is gorgeous, too."

" _Don't you dare-_ "

"Calm down, I don't need useless shiny stuff, I'm just complimenting it!"

"Still." Skeppy huffs a whine and rolls his eyes.

But the fear return as the man lifts the dagger close to his head, only to be replaced with confusion when the gloved hand cupped his cheek, dagger in his fingers away from his face. He doesn't dare to say anything about it, scared that if he opens his mouth, he will become the river again, that he will never stop pouring out.

"Your cheeks look injured, Highness," he says with a tinge of pity.

"Mhm…" Skeppy only knows how to lean his head into the soft material that holds his cheek, feeling its warmth.

"And the line across your neck from the pressure of my sword too," the man smirks. "it looks painfully unkissed."

Again, Skeppy's cheeks heat up as it turns a shade of roses. Looking anywhere but the other's eyes, still unable to back away.

Feeling like his feet were buried into the ground and his body frozen. He gets high on feelings again, drunk out of his mind to have the strength to fight back the blush.

"Why- you said you were gonna save me. Why haven't you come?"

"It's not as easy as you think it is, sweetheart." he rolls his eyes, lips lifting up in a teasing mock: "Like you're the _only_ one who knows that you have guards on your tail."

"It's hard." Skeppy let another tearless sob out, too weak and cold for his ocean to pour out.

"What is?"

"Everything, please take me away."

Even though his blood is rich, he can't help but feel like a slave, both locked in his room and under the man's gaze. He relaxes more under his touch, letting the other know that he won't fight against him.

He feels a blow of soft breath hit his face, and when he lazily opens his eyes, purple powder falls from his tired eyelashes. He blinks from a weird feeling, the powder glitters fall as he shakes his head, falling from his hair.

"Soon, my dear," The stranger softly smiles at him. "But right now, you have to rest."

Removing his sword from under the prince's chin, the one that Skeppy still has no idea of what material it's made, he stabbed it into the ground, picking Skeppy up bridal style and taking his diamond sword that lay on the ground not so far away from them.

But Skeppy only feels like floating, his eyes sleepily land above him, staring back at shiny emeralds.

Heavy eyelashes fall to a close as he places his hands in his lap. Who knew heaviness could be so empty, and the emptiness so heavy?

His body just floats in the air by the hands of… who? His ears pick up on the sounds of the man's voice, such as sugar to coffee, such as honey to the tea. Like a distant melody that lulls you to sleep, casting spells to your dreams. He prays that the hums above him become louder, because maybe if he remembers how the voice sounds like and how it brings him comfort, if he remembers his voice like a song he's listened to countless times, then it'll stay with him, at the back of his head.

The sky turns into a gentle blur. behind his eyelashes, his eyes can only shine from how pretty the night sky is. Maybe this is the peace he's looking for? maybe this is enough, or maybe he wants more?

And the man just walks. Glancing back at Skeppy from time to time to see his eyes glitter with fondness. How his dark eyes fall in love with the stars and the moon above them, and how he cracks an innocent smile, sweetest smile that when he did so, the stars turned off their light to let _him_ shine. How when the lovely prince tears his gaze from the sky and looks back at him, they hold eye contact, his smile is gentle like a lost puppy, like he fell in love with the world and space, with the wind and with the sound.

The sun shines in his brown eyes from outside of his window, sunsets are the best because, when brown eyes stare, they turn to golden honey, so sweet that you find yourself staring at them, wanting to have them all for yourself and drink it with a cookie. The sun shines in his void pupils, especially when it's dark. The brown color is like an ocean painted with the wrong color, but still as flawless.

The stare between them is long, full of care. They're drowning in each other's colors that shine behind their eyelashes, sinking through them. The outside air fills them up from the inside, the wind tickling the back of their necks and their hair, Skeppy's clothes are still a little wet, it freezes like boiling water when it's thrown outside. They're covered in a soft glow, the burning in their lungs become easier to get used to.

What is happening right now? Why does he feel so at peace? So many questions but no answers. He just wants to run away, to hide, to go away and never come back. Is freedom actually that good? Is it beautiful, or is it terrifying? Maybe it is both, or maybe he's just thinking too deep into it and trying to find the answers that are not important. The world is full of secrets and mystery. His mind only interested about one, though.

"Do you remember the flames, your Highness?"

The voice above him calls, he's sure he can bathe in his words and let it clean his mind from all the negativity. The flames? The orange creature that dances on top of a candle when he's reading a book, writing poems that make his mind bloom? What does he mean by _remember_?

"You mean like, the one on top of a candle?"

His lips form a question. He fills his mind with any memories and words that have to do with the flames. Mind and body tangled with something he's trying to remember, it hurts his head. Nothing of many words feels important to answer the question with. A fireplace ahead of him with sips of hot chocolate? a gentle hum of a white candle placed next to his book? lanterns that cover the sky on a special day he doesn't remember the date or name of?

"What have they done to you?"

His eyes show pity and regret as he looks away. Skeppy almost misses his glow, his warm smile on his face and that stupid smirk of his.

There are so many thoughts rushing by right now that Skeppy is too tired to want to stay awake. He lets his eyelashes crush together and his breath even out. 

"I promise you, love…" 

The man says sadly, tangling their pinkies together as the sign that he will never break it, that he will stay true to his words. Skeppy smiles the sleepiest smile, giving it a soft squeeze while his mind and body relax in the man's warm hands. 

"I promise you that I'll make you remember."


	3. Darling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out that the reason of the first time he leaves his kingdom wasn’t that bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first and second chapters have been edited a bit! (literally just now, so if the story/details aren't the same in the future; that's probably why (if you haven't read it ofc, there's a lot of mistakes and details added that i'm removing if they're not needed, and the first ch was supposed to be a OS, _and_ the plot changes time to time as i get new ideas, and i edit my work a lot in order to make it work LOL so for example: if i said that the castle had roses around the windows... no i didnt haha ignore that) anyway, thank you for your attention and enjoy reading!

Skeppy really wasn’t looking forward to this day.

He was actually pretty upset, looking outside the small window and watching the world pass by. There he was, sitting in a carriage that was bouncing ever so slightly when a rock made its way under the wheel.

Fancy clothes and a cape keeping his shoulders warm; his favorite, blue with crystal lace as details spilled all around like stars that he's fallen so deeply in love with, he carried a Milky Way on his back, adoring the way it sparkled as he turned or danced under the light. Sun or moonlight, it didn't matter as long as he was enjoying himself.

With the sound of the horse's feet against the gravel and a wind fogging the window with its cold breath, he couldn't seem to like admiring his view very much.

Of course not. He looked back down with a frown on his face, holding the ruined paper in his lap. His knuckles red from when he threw a punch at his wall to release his anger, tears spilling from his face and teeth biting down on his lower lip to muffle the screams.

He still wonders why he's not allowed to leave, many reports of him being seen sneaking out for the past few days, trying to find comfort again and enter the forest. He also wonders why everything is so dead outside; the world covered in a white soft blanket and every color sucked out of the green leaves that once were swaying so lovingly. He never had visited the world, too. Always being kept inside with no explanation on why. This was his first time leaving the castle on his own without a guard by his side.

What made him furious, caused his mind to fog up with gray stormy clouds, was an announcement from his father's lips when they were having dinner at their big table.

The reason that he will finally be able to leave; being an arranged marriage.

How cruel can the world be to put him in a situation like this? he never wanted to marry a person that he knows nothing of, not even the sound of their voice or color of their hair.

After that night, he had tried to leave again. Sneaking out from his room without shoes because if someone somehow found a scratch on it, he would have to listen to his father talk nonsense for hours. Such heavy words filled with poison, leaving his lungs and stabbing Skeppy right through his heart that has already been shattered so many times before. It's silly how a tiny mistake could make a parent become a rabid animal, fire in their eyes as they shout words without thinking about crossing the line and breaking their child's trust. They would always wonder why the bond of their family fell apart, but at the same time; knowing well that it's because of their action but never apologizing, nor explaining.

Skeppy's brows furrowed together, rereading the words that were written down on the paper in his hand, that has been ruined and stained with water from a fight.

Lovely words that somehow comforted Skeppy when the nights couldn't pass slower. Sleepless nights spent tossing around the bed; getting lost in the night sky behind the window.

Handwriting seemed to be a little bit messy as if someone was in a hurry and writing with shaky hands while some fading dots stood out; barely noticeable but it's there. The thing that bothered him the most is that it had his name written down on the top. How does someone know his name aside from his family? the world only seeing and calling him _Skeppy,_ no one actually knows his name.

Yet why is his own name so mysterious? Not really that, but who wrote it? He's positive it's not from his father; he was never true of his feelings, always hiding secrets from everyone. Could it be his mother? He doesn't remember her face, half of his memories blurred; he sometimes wonders if he ever even saw her, felt her arms around his tiny body when the storm filled their ears with a loud, unpleasant sound.

He'd read the letter over and over and over again until he falls asleep from how his eyelids became too heavy, tears dried on his cheeks. There are tiny bits of warm love behind his eyelashes as they're fluttered closed. Tiny bits of comfort that crawled to his skin, it stained his ribs. Nothing sends a shiver down his spine the same way as the letter does. A love letter with a ripped out piece of the paper where the name should lie attached, not only that; but a few sentences were cut off too. Skeppy assumed the paper's ripped in half.

The words make him feel, makes him feel worthy to roam his room and sometimes other parts of the castle, worthy to stay. His mind a box carrying the feeling of hope. He would wrap himself in the comforting words that he doesn't even know from who they were, he would paint his body with the feeling and letters that lie smudged in front of his eyes. The feeling would make his heartbeat slow, beating calm, would make his ribs spread and lungs fill full.

But it would make his skin shiver; he always hears a faint scream in the back of his head every time he reads the letter. And sometimes it _would_ make his heart race.

It makes him feel uneasy, especially because he has no reason to feel that way. Does he? it's confusing that he finds comfort and discomfort out of it at the same time.

He wants to reach his hands into the ghosts of his mind, so many times has he spent digging into his own head and thoughts, into the emptiness. Always giving up when he threw his body on top of his bed, grabbing the blanket and throwing it away onto the ground because he's too tired from not being able to recall the events of his past.

He likes to redo sweet things that he actually grasped from his mind. He remembers having an eyelash fall and he would take it, make a wish, kiss it, and put it inside of his shirt. He does that and wishes for his mind to be clear from gray clouds; but it never worked. It's silly, really. Hoping something would change if he made a wish from a fallen eyelash.

Instead, he turns to the sky: he doesn't know exactly what it is but he feels it there. Maybe if he reaches out for the light he might catch it, but he holds himself back to admire them instead.

Holds himself back because of the fear of being the reason it loses its light.

But what if the light would stain his soul after the fingertips make contact with the cold star? maybe the fear of seeing the light fading from it is something that will always be there. But what if that's the point? sometimes claiming something then keeping it in your heart and lungs as a treasure is what really matters.

He likes to bathe in his feelings even though most of them are horrid.

He wants to touch something his skin can't. Would his wishes reach the sky enough to hear him and care enough to listen? He wishes it does, yet that's another wish that waits to be granted.

Skeppy fidged with a golden clip that keeps his cape from falling, glancing at the darkish world outside again. The shades of the clouds are honestly pretty, a fluff that he really wants to know the taste of.

He remembers the words in the letter and tries to ignore the thoughts that maybe the person is not even here anymore. If someone loved him so dearly as their words say; he's pretty sure they would come to him again.

He also tries not to think about the scream. The faint echo in his mind that's so heavy, surprisingly warm, maybe even hot. The goosebumps spread all across his body and he rubs his legs together, then scratches his upper arm to shake the feeling off.

Sometimes he even lets it take over. The feeling slowly creeping to his neck and his head tickles under his hair, just like it would make him giggle when he lets the water fall on top of his head, dripping down when taking a bath, only this time he doesn't even crack a smile.

The carriage finally stops after hours of traveling and Skeppy is pulled out of his thoughts as the door opens.

There it is; a castle he had never seen before, right in front of him.

He slips out of the carriage with a smile as he takes the gloved hand for support and steps onto the ground, fixing his clothes and straightening the golden buttons that are attached to a white silk suit so that it doesn't look like a cow chewed it and spat it out. He takes off his tiara to ruffle his raven hair, then puts it back on.

With the letter in his pocket and a carriage leaving his side, he makes his way to the entrance.

The air is stolen from his lungs as he takes in the sight around him.

The room filled with people, many more than his castle ever had before. People chatting with their partner to the melody that's playing so beautifully that you might fall in love with, so perfect for the night. He can't spot anyone familiar as he walks further.

This castle is probably bigger than his, the place full of surprising bronze and golden beauty that takes your breath away. A large chandelier with candles right in the middle of a ballroom. He walks without care, what even are the rules? He has been inside for so long that he never visited other kingdoms. It really is beautiful to finally step away and feel free, well, as free as he can feel right now.

His shoes tap against the tiles, his rich look causing people to stare.

 _It's okay, that's normal._ he reminds himself as the nerves start to crawl up his body. What is he supposed to do now that he's here? no family member by his side or a guard, he's not sure if he's supposed to finally relax or if he should be worried that he _doesn't_ have anyone by his side. Don't get him wrong, he has never really been alone except in his room and the bathroom.

As he continues to walk, he doesn't notice a person approaching him.

"Excuse me, Your Highness?" A soft voice calls, he turns around to spot a woman in a big light cream colored, ruffled luxurious bling gown.

"May I have this dance?" She says as she outstretched her pale hand, cream gloves matching her dress.

Are ballroom dances always this straight forward? He can't really refuse the request as he's taken by the said hand and began to be dragged to the middle of the ballroom, not that he was going to decline the offer, either.

The light falls on them, causing her gown to sparkle as she leads, glittery lace details shining and showing off her beauty to the people that glanced at them, curious about what's going to happen.

She suddenly turns around with a smile on her face and steps closer, desperately looking up at him as the people continue to stare. Skeppy quickly understood, straightening his posture and putting an arm behind his back.

The melody that has been playing started to grow stronger, a prince and a princess in the middle of a huge ballroom with countless eyes staring at them in awe. Many women in different dresses waving their fans and smiling brightly at them, some being jealous; glaring at their partner for staring, wanting the attention to themselves.

Skeppy and the princess bowed, then stepped even closer, she placed her right hand on the prince's left and held them in the air. Skeppy's right hand went under her armpit and on her shoulder blade, her free arm rested on top of his.

They've begun moving, her brown hair decorated beautifully; a long messy braid like waves of an ocean with tiny white flowers and glitter, sparkling like stars.

Her dress was glittering more with every movement too; lace spread all around the bottom of her dress and more around her chest.

"You seemed lost, I've decided to jump in and help you out!"

"So, you're the one I'm supposed to marry?" Skeppy asked while keeping his voice small, lifting his left arm above her head, spinning her once after the fourth step.

"Um, that's correct. Do you not know me?" she frowned but quickly replaced the sad look with a smile as she remembered they were being watched.

"Am I supposed to know you?"

"Wha- uh, I know that there's nothing much to talk about when you're dancing," - she was spun around once more, slower than before. "but this really isn't the right time to troll."

"What are you talking about?"

She stayed quiet after that, keeping up a forced smile on her face as they continued to dance. They parted away from each other, hands still together, and stepped close once more. They took small steps again and both looked at the side, then moved their hands as they were splashing someone in young years.

"Call me Mei, please."

"Mei-" Skeppy began and glanced around, feeling many eyes on his skin. "are we really about to, y'know?" he looked at her again. "I don't think I want to be with you, um, I feel quite awkward if I'm being honest. It all happened so quickly."

"I understand, don't worry." her blooming smile shifted into something more real. "My heart belongs to someone else."

"Wait, really?"

"Mhm, she's with that guy over there!"

Skeppy bowed her, glancing up to see a blonde-haired woman in a light blue dress, he gasped when his eyes met a man in a fine ink turtleneck blazer with golden details.

Skeppy's veins boiled and his heart skipped a beat. Not wanting to seem suspicious, Mei took the lead and spun herself, causing him to brush the feeling off quickly; back to focus on her.

She glanced at them, nodding, and the pair joined them in dancing, ignoring confused looks from other people around them.

"Just watch and follow, okay?" Mei smiled brightly. "I'm changing the rules a bit."

As she said that, she suddenly swirled and parted away from him. Skeppy watched in confusion as she started dancing with the other woman, and felt himself being pulled by someone's hand.

His heart stopped as he was pulled close to the man's chest, looking at him with wide eyes.

It's him; the one Skeppy wished he had ran away with. The one he has spent days trying to escape his room for.

"How did you-"

"May I have this dance?" The man smiled knowingly, spinning Skeppy around and leaned closer to him again, taking steps.

"You've done it again," Skeppy rolls his eyes but cannot bother to hide his smile, moving around the ballroom and watching the princess dragging more people to join them.

"You're really good at dancing," he smirks. "I wonder who taught you that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The man let the question slip like a tear from blurry eyes, spinning Skeppy around.

The prince couldn't care less, he ignored the annoyed tingles in his mind and allowed himself to drown in the feeling.

He stole a glance to the side, catching Mei dancing with a smile so bright and many other people starting to follow their actions, thinking that the rules of the dance changed for this special night.

It's great how everyone's smile seemed to shine more as they danced with their new partners. Woman with a woman, man with a man. The proud glitter in people's eyes as they send a smile as they danced, seeming to enjoy the change way more than Skeppy thought they would.

But the lovely feeling of green eyes piercing his skin lasted, to his disappointment, way too short as he was grabbed by Mei's hand again, and was met with the same gorgeous smile.

The princess smirked at his flushed cheeks, Skeppy not understanding the meaning of her facial expression.

"Calm your feelings," her dress flying like waves of many seas and oceans, with moonlight washing over the surface with milky paint. "losing your control isn't that fun."

Prince's raven blades of hair tickled his forehead as he tilted his head, not understanding the meaning of her advice. How was he losing control now? he was only dancing. Of course, the warmth being a bit too much as the sweat formed on top of his eyebrows, his body feeling too hot under the rich cloth, but that doesn’t mean he's losing control? they danced and Skeppy waited for the right time to part, to place his hands on top of careful ones and watch how the man's chestnut hair flew along with his perfect movements.

As they parted, Skeppy spun around and his hand only met the freeze of suddenly cold wind rushing in between his fingers.

_What?_

His cape flew to his feet as he stood in confusion; not meeting the orbs he was hoping to get lost into.

He had turned around, too, only to see unfamiliar happy faces and many colors of dresses; no trace of a woman with brunette hair and her partner she was so excited to dance with.

He can't call out to her, either, he'd bring more attention to himself from his raised voice, and many eyes would be glued on him.

So instead, he awkwardly, faking confidence, pretended to blend in of all of the moving colors and slipped out from the crowd;

rushing to the back door that was left open. He doesn't remember someone opening it.

His back turned once more to check if the princess was actually there and if his eyes were playing tricks on him, but everything was just a blur as he walked into the hallway and closed the door.

It all felt so familiar. A comfort creeping up his spine as he repeated the same thing; cape being blown by the wind behind his back, sweat being dried off from the outside cold making his head ache from how harsh it is, but decided to ignore it.

The hallway wasn’t the same as in his castle; there were more picture frames on the walls, painted faces of people he didn’t recognize nor planning to, a smudge of green and brown colors presenting the nature and the forest, and one that's-

This one is strange.

A painted mess of ink and oranges, red and yellow mixing in a flawless perfection and waves, seeming to be flying up to the night sky with orange sparks around it.

What he couldn't quite understand was a big, spilled black mess of colors in the middle.

Skeppy stepped closer, he has never seen art like this before. Not in his castle nor in the books he wanted to read. _Books that were taken from his hands and burned without explanations on why._

His mind thought about the sky, but as far as he can remember, the night sky usually has countless stars spread all around it.

This painting instead had only two.

Strange.

His eyes focused on the words written down in the corner, not able to figure out the name of an artist from the blurred words, but the date showed that it was done many, many years ago.

He decided to brush it off, why bother paying attention to an artwork done so beautifully yet the one that's so hard to understand.

The art is created and it is perfect even if the artist might not be proud of it.

An emotional mess of thoughts and flustration poured from the artist's eyes, from lips as they stare at their unfinished beauty, moving their hands in delight movements as they left traces of lines and curls. Not realizing their worth; forcing themselves to please other people with it, rather than their own soul.

Skeppy knew there could always be more meanings behind a piece of artwork, but he doesn't have to dig into it every time.

And so, he walked right past it, his black shoes left echoes against the walls and tiny flames of many candles.

It's all familiar to him. He walked out of the castle and was met with a harsh kiss of a winter wind against his cheeks and sweaty forehead, he waited a moment to hear a call.

The only thing that called for him was his own mind telling him to move forward, away from his life he used to live, into the unknown, yet familiar freedom.

His body began moving, and it's strange how he quickly fell in love with how the snow sounded from under his shoes again. How it cracked like his warm bones after reading a book, how the snow shines under the moonlight.

He had always wished to walk free to stare at the snowflakes as they fall, dancing in the air with friends and family and landing on the ground like when he'd read a long love story and giggled from excitement, hugging the book close to his chest, then falling on top of his mocha mess of blankets with a smile across his face.

Skeppy hopes that this is the time he can finally walk without being watched, without being reported seeing somewhere where he shouldn't be. Without his father locking him into his room for a millionth of times.

He still wonders why. Oh, why wasn’t he allowed to read that old dusted book that was shoved deep inside the library? why isn't he allowed to talk to the poor hearts of people whose blood were only beaming with nothing but love?

He walks under the stars in the clearing; a forest ahead of him, but he still has plenty of steps to make.

He doesn't even try to find the person that was the cause of his deep awakening feelings of need. Need of the freedom and knowledge of unseen things. It's embarrassing that he found out what flowers were from the poems.

Skeppy knows that the man will come to him eventually. If not him; then he will not give up until he finds him himself.

The night is pretty peaceful. The melody becoming more like a whisper to his ears, and the sky free of snowflakes; allowing two brown worlds to gaze up and send a thankful smile.

His smile always makes the stars twinkle.

How could it not? A perfect line of his white teeth and lips soft as a petal, a petal torn from the head of a flower and being counted as a number. Many numbers following after. The petals could be simple words as _yes_ and _no_ , and the last petal would be the one that decided someone's fate, or a wish.

Skeppy has read it many times, he so desperately wanted to try it out. Maybe his wishes would finally come true if it were for a flower in his hand.

Sweat on his face and his lower back probably frozen as he walks and walks, if people haven't started looking for him and probably the princess too, he thinks; then maybe this was his chance. It's weird that no guards came along and traveled to the other kingdom. Maybe they were already there waiting for his arrival, but his eyes never caught a person in heavy armor that looks very familiar to him from how often he would have to force his anger down to behave, from how often he saw them.

That was a relief, being watched by someone while dancing with a person you're supposed to marry, that wouldn't sit right with him, instead, it would make him worried and his smile would be replaced with a frown.

His deep thoughts were quickly replaced with a yelp flying out of his lungs;

"Ah-!" Skeppy jumped when he felt something tap his shoulder, with eyes wide, his tiara slightly fell forward.

And it was true, the man has found him again.

"Shit- you scared me," the prince flushed, laughing his embarrassment off. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Sorry, couldn't resist." The man fixed his glasses with a giggle, black cloak protecting him from the cold as Skeppy raised his hands to fix his tiara. When did he even change his clothes?

"Why'd you leave?" He decided to ask, curiosity taking the best of him.

"Just thought we could go for a small walk," he looked at the prince with a shrug. "don't want to waste my time watching you dance with her."

"Oh, are you jealous?"

"What- no!" Skeppy's arm got a light punch. "You can go back if you want to, it’s not me who's getting married."

"Oh, come-" his voice died in the middle of a sentence, a smile being replaced with confusion. "wait, how do you know?"

"People got invited to come, of course I know!"

"We never said anything about the marriage, though?"

"Well, I have my ways."

"Whatever," Skeppy sighed, continuing walking aside the man in silence.

The melody is too far gone already. He's been walking for a while.

The cold wind started to bite at his cheeks and hands, tearing the soft reden skin apart and it froze his blood, cold spreading to his cheekbones and knuckles, an unpleasant numb feeling taking over.

To Skeppy, the feeling was mostly new.

He couldn't help but gaze at the stars again; not noticing him slowing down his movement and the man to step closer to the entrance of the forest. Not noticing the large rose vines removing themselves as the stranger came closer to it, glancing back at the prince whose face was shining in adoration for the shiny dots, just a few meters away.

"You like the stars, huh?" The young man smiled and Skeppy's stare got torn away, meeting the person again; the one who gave him peace, someone that he feels a strange, yet strong connection to.

"I do," The prince beamed and rushed after him, walking deeper into the forest. "very much."

"Want to become one of them?"

Skeppy bit down a cocky reply, showing a _"I already am a star"_ down his throat, back to his lungs as the curiosity took over.

"What do you mean?"

"Come," he says, then turns his back on him again. Skeppy would huff if it were someone else, but right now he couldn't help but admire how the cloak danced behind the man's back, and wonder why he always wears the hood over his head; Skeppy has read that people usually wear the hood when its raining or snowing. It was basically common sense, too.

As they walked deeper, still basking in comfortable silence, Skeppy couldn't help but wonder about colorful dots that rose from the ground. "Are those flowers?"

The man looked back at him in confusion for a moment, and Skeppy didn't miss the frown that took right after as he turned around again.

"Yeah! They're roses"

"It's pretty, I haven't had the time to actually pay attention to it… It looks weird."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, the roses are different from what I've seen in books, these are kinda ugly-" a giggle escaped his lips before he yelped. _"Ouch!"_

"Wha-"

"What the fuck is-"

"Shh-!" he placed a gloved hand over Skeppy's mouth. "I told you not to swear here!"

He removed his hand when Skeppy's words were being muffled; "-why?"

"I already told you!" He left a tiny grumble and continued to lead. "She doesn't like it, she gets upset."

"Oh- you mean the forest?"

"Yeah-"

"Well, what the tree, she just leafing _bit_ me!"

The silly words took him by surprise, he choked on his giggle; "Wh-at?"

"Look!" As the man turned around to fully face him, he lifted his hand to show a dot of blood.

He rolled his eyes. "Really, Skeppy? What have you done?"

"I didn’t do anything, you _language man!_ " he bit back. "My father doesn’t really like roses, or any type of flower, really. He always throws them out when I bring them inside. I also didn’t know the flowers could _move?_ "

He decided to ignore what Skeppy said at the end; "Why?"

"Maybe he got bit too, I dunno?"

"Ugh, wait," The man rolled his eyes and stepped closer.

And, oh, Skeppy had totally _not_ expected this;

the man lifted the prince's hand, bringing it close to his face and Skeppy felt a warm puff of a breath inside of his palm. His cheeks darkened the shade of a rose as the man kissed the lower part of his ring finger. Green eyes burned brown ones as he glanced at him with half-lidded eyes, cracking a tiny smile and placed a kiss on the tip after.

 _"There,"_ He stepped back, having a shy blush forming on his cheeks as well. "better?"

The air failed to enter Skeppy's lungs for a moment, still burning from the sudden affection.

He quickly cleared his throat.

"Are you a vampire now? What the _fuck_ was that-"

"Language! Oh my _gosh!_ " He pushed Skeppy with more force this time, receiving a loud laugh. "Whatever, I'll let you bleed to death next time." The teasing voice was not missed.

"It was sweet," Skeppy added as he saw him turn around, knowing well that he appreciates it, even though the only response was a small huff, Skeppy smiled at the silly noise.

Without raising their voice any more, they continued to walk, passing many trees and leaving the area filled with roses.

As they walked deeper, Skeppy's eyes trailed around the place. He doesn't remember flowers growing and trees having leaves at this time of year. The world was always described as dead, covered by a white blanket in books, which did not seem to be the case here.

"Here," the prince looked back at him, seeing the other lowering and lying onto the ground. The place was a small clearing; the trees not blocking the view and letting the night sky glitter down on them.

"Hmm," Skeppy hums, then lies next to him, his cape keeping his body dry.

"-you ever wonder if the moon is sad?"

"Huh?"

"Like, you can see the scars it has, acne all over its face." the prince smiled sadly, gazing up at the sky like many times before. He can't, and never will, get bored of counting the glittering magic.

"What if the moon sees itself as ugly? What if it doesn't know the smile it brings on people's faces and many paths it shines?"

The man looked at Skeppy, keeping his mouth shut, saving air to calm his blush down.

"-I don't know, I just think it's pretty…"

Skeppy tilts his head to the side, looking at the other's eyes and his glasses, taking his time to notice how the man's nose is sharper than his. And Skeppy meets his eyes, not used to be stared at with so much affection and something he can't quite place. His cheeks burn under his fond gaze as he looks back at the stars.

"Do the stars feel sad too? do they feel guilty for always shining so brightly, drawing someone's attention to stare at _them,_ rather than at whatever they were staring at before? or maybe the stars are selfish."

"Sometimes, being selfish is a good thing, though." the other replied. "We chose to look at them, the stars are always there no matter if you stare, or look away. You have nights upon nights to bask into the feeling of their light."

"I guess so, It's obvious I'm choosing to look at the sky rather than your ugly face, anyway." Skeppy giggled, hearing a smile in other's next words.

"Oh, shut up, Your Highness-, the stars are there to guide, too, many lives were saved because-" he followed Skeppy's eyes, looking for a North Star and then pointing at it. "that one. Beautiful, isn't it?"

Skeppy looks at him like he looks at the stars, he finds it difficult to tear his gaze away from an inexplicable feeling that has taken over his face and glazed his eyes from fondness.

He would give anything away just to stay in this very moment. There was nothing he'd be doing instead of gazing at the stars with a person next to him. He prays that this is not a dream; that he is actually here, free.

"Look at the stars, Skeppy," He hears, and does exactly that. "stare at them, feel the wind that blows."

He relaxes his body, feeling the kisses of cold, yet warm breath of the Earth against his skin. The back of his neck tickles from the wet grass as he feels the tiny blade brush his tan skin.

"Acknowledge the place and feelings around you, then let it go. Let yourself become one with it."

His neck feels safe as the grass sways softly around them, spots of snow here and there wetting it with cold droplets. It sits comforting under his skin.

"Imagine you're not looking up, but looking _down_ at the blackness. Let your mind feel the magic."

The prince does not understand what he means but allows himself to lie peacefully onto the ground. He doesn’t move a muscle, doesn't scratch his nose after the coldness tickles it.

It's pretty when the clouds don’t swallow the stars. He let the love for the stars wash him away, blooming the most beautiful way and glistering so bright yet so small.

The sky will never be the same. It never is and Skeppy knows it, he had stared at it for so long; noticed that every star had moved each night. It'll never look the same as it looks right now, so he adores this very moment. This is how it feels like to be free, to exist and live at the same time and fall for the feeling and the beauty and for the mind to be clear of all worries.

And when he feels a glance at his way, he doesn't bother to look at him back. He knows that the other is smiling and, oh, the warm feeling tickles his palm slowly before he feels the other sliding his hand into his, tangling their fingers together.

Skeppy's heart cracks open and he is too far deep to care about the flames that the other feeds, his cheeks warming the longer he gets stared at, and the fire blooms more.

Skeppy outstretches his hand upwards to catch a star too, but only he doesn’t. His hands stay glued to his side and it feels like he's drowning into the ground as he relaxes more, getting lost in a faint hum of light that has never been so lovely. His hand got squeezed as a soft reminder that he's here, that he cares, and that he will not leave his side.

He feels himself drowning in an awake dream, he lets the black and shiny white sink inside of him, and he feels the blood in his veins floating too, curling the softest swirls as it tickles. His thoughts disappear, words are long gone, he melts into the sky and just like in his dream, or maybe even a nightmare; he feels like falling, but this time it's different as he doesn't wake up, doesn't panic nor sob into the blanket. The falling is more like a feather. Instead of crashing against the rough emptiness of his mind, he stays staring, his body becoming heavier, more numb, so full to the brim of all the feelings; he feels like an ocean again.

And the black sky melts into him too, becoming one with him. A beautiful mix of blue, faint fog of magic; he doesn’t notice it floating around his body. He is too lost at peace and busy floating through space, his eyelids grow hard to hold open but he forces himself to stare.

He sees the stars under him, just as the man said. He is surprised that he's not falling through space, falling to join the pool of galaxies and colorful blur, but yet the blur is so clear. He stays in place, being able to watch.

His weight lost forgotten, His arms and legs and neck not even existing as he floats. Maybe he does fall, but he's in the same place at the same time? Skeppy is far too lost to even bother questioning it.

He knows that the Earth is not flat and that there are people and animals under him, but isn't he under them too, then? maybe that's the magic of stargazing; to know everything around you, but yet deciding to forget it and when you do, you get lost into the void. To relax so much that you don't even feel your own body, to imagine that you're not staring up, but rather down at the sky. It's so relaxing that you could fall asleep.

And his body has become one with the stars. Never had the mind of his thought about how the stars would teach him how to fly, or rather, the star that lies beside him; holding his hand. His black pupils pouring out, then mixing with the blackness, eyelashes fluttering close, he is too far gone to notice his hair actually floating.

He hummed along with the magic, drunk and calm and at peace, just lovingly staring at something he always had, always will.

It's true; he will never get bored of the stars and the moon.

"Say," His gentle voice called out, reaching the man's ears. "what's your name?"

That's the question he longed to find the answer for. Sleepless nights spent wondering about a stupid smile and how the man avoided the question when he asked it for the first time. His blood curls as he tears his eyes away from the stars and glances at the side, the most beautiful hues of green are still staring at him, he wonders for how long.

But the man says nothing, a shadow of a sad smile follows the prince everywhere. He has only seen it a few times, yet it leaves daggers in his chest, wrong tickles in his throat, and a sting to his shoulder. He wants to rest his cold hand on his cheek, trace his thumb against his eyebrow to leave a trail of care. To leave an invisible tattoo of love.

"Darling." The man decided to answer in a small whisper before he looked away.

Skeppy only huffs, his lungs too full with air and flowers and blood, love and stars, and just everything. He believes he could fly from how alive he already feels, but he doesn't want to. He already tastes the freedom brushing against the side of his arm, feels warmth around his fingers. His body already stained from a single gaze of a man.

He doesn't think twice about the word from the other's throat, deciding to gaze at the blackness again. Nothing matters more than this very moment, so he lets his eyelashes flutter close and breath even out. They're in no rush, he could steal a few minutes or hours for a peaceful dream.

With a comfort feeling next to him; the stars and the other's breath sing him a lullaby as he begins to sink again.

He has never felt more at peace as he allows his soul to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> this is on-going, I prefer completed format for fics so that is why I'm keeping it the way it is
> 
> comments are very appreciated, thank you for reading!


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